


Across the Galaxy

by 200percent_inlove



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Guardian Angels, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Childhood Friends, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Guardian Angels, Love, Magic, Memories, Memory Loss, Reincarnation, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-06 18:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13417026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200percent_inlove/pseuds/200percent_inlove
Summary: There’s nothing else that he could ask for in this world. Because so long as she – the person that he loves – exists at the same time as him, then, it simply doesn’t matter. AU.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I should try something new. I've never really written fantasy AU's before, so I hope I do this justice (Especially for my favourite maknaes, OTL). This will be a multi-chaptered story (Not sure how many chapters, but I'll figure it out as I continue writing LOL). This is slightly inspired by Jung-Kook (Can't remember where the gif set comes from) - he once said that his childhood dream was to be like Haku from Spirited Away. I guess this gives a hint as to what is yet to come? ;) Hope you enjoy!

When he and her locked eyes for the very first time – he, being eight, still carrying slight chubbiness in his face, and she, innocently naïve at five with large doe-like eyes – they both knew that they would fall in love eventually, even if they both were completely unaware of what would happen in the future.

Kim Ye-Rim knew who he was. Sort of; after all, she was only five. The convenience store owners’ son. Coincidentally, he was also her neighbour and her older brothers’ best friend. He was a kind-hearted youngster: Someone whom always secretly gave her an extra lollipop when his father – a gruff, but handsome-looking man – wasn’t looking. He carried a mop of thick, black hair on his head and a nose so high and tall, yet still failed to compete for attention with his eyes.

Her mother used to mention that they were his strongest feature, and laughed airily whenever she noticed a group of elementary school girls goggling at him from afar – rather poorly, mind you. Tiptoeing whilst staring from outside. When Ye-Rim questioned rather loudly why they were wasting their time doing that after they exited (And ignoring the menancing stares that followed suit), her mother only patted her head gently and mentioned, “You’ll figure it out some day.”

She didn’t believe her mothers’ words. Or, at the very least, she didn't want to believe in them. In her books, boys were dumb, imbecilic idiots whom did nothing but break the hearts of unsuspecting girls, leaving them to wallow in their sorrows alone after their emotions were toyed with and trod on. This boy – Jeon Jung-Kook – was no exception to her rule. “Well, if you think that I am going to like Jeon Jung-Kook, mommy – “ She started matter-of-factly as they entered their house. "I can promise you that will not happen."

Try as she might, her mother was right as always. The year she turned ten, he was thirteen. In that awkward, transitioning phase of not yet a teenager, but past the foolish immaturity that a boy often carried with him. In her eyes, he looked somewhat different now. Perhaps even a tad bit better-looking than before? Was his hair _always_ that shade of mahogany brown? Were his eyes always so smolderingly intense? Did he always look like a puppy whenever he puffed out his cheeks at a frustrating task? Her questions continued to come one by one, non-stop.

“Hey, how are you?” Was his voice _always_ that deep?!

And it was when he packaged her purchases carefully and delivered her with a charming, cheerful smile and an overly enthusiastic “Thank-you!” that she knew: She fell for him, too.

“He’s really cute.” Ye-Rim mumbled one day at the dinner table, her fingers toying with the ends of her hair. Her father looks up from his newspaper, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“Who?”

“Jeon Jung-Kook.”

He scoffed, stating bluntly, “That’s just puberty at work” and then proceeded to tut about how she should be studying more instead of day-dreaming about hypothetical relationships at the age of ten. But let’s be honest, puppy love _was_ rather adorable. And since this was his very own daughter that was caught in a pathetically cute downward spiral into the rabbit hole that consisted of Jeon Jung-Kook, well, there was nothing that he could do other than let her brag about how great he was regularly. Which was every single day.

"He gave me an extra packet of gum today!" 

Almost every single hour. 

"I wonder what his ideal type is." 

Pestering her brother until he, unable to concentrate due to her constant babbling, slammed his textbook shut, telling her huffily, "Well, all I can say is that it's IU, and it's certainly not going to be you if you keep up this nonsense!" 

Stunned, she paused for a moment before crossing her arms against her chest and declaring rather confidently, "Then, I'll mould myself to be!"

"... _Yah_! Where are you going?"

Instead of replying her older brother, Ye-Rim only snapped with the overwhelming viciousness of a female tigress, "And you're not invited to our wedding!" before slamming the bedroom door shut behind her.

* * *

 

 

Soon enough, she began to volunteer for every single errand that her mother needed. Even if it meant paying out of her own pocket. 

"Oh dear," The older woman sighed, running a hand through her hair as she busied by the flaming-hot stove. "We're out of milk - Ye-Rim- _ah_! Where are you going?"

"To the store!" was her reply, throwing her shoes on and triple checking the hallway mirror just to make sure her shiny pink Etude House lip gloss was still intact. When she arrived home later that afternoon with the bottle of now warmed milk, she was glowing with adolescent pride; he complimented her make-up. "You look just like IU!" She couldn't help but squeal into her pillow.   

Her father needed the daily paper? No problem, she’d venture out and get it just to see Jeon Jung-Kook. Of course, she wasn't always so lucky. Occasionally, he might be away, playing baseball or basketball with his friends. Or, he would be studying for one of his upcoming exams and his mother would be behind the counter. But, on the days that he was after peeking through the side window that was never visible to the front counter, she made sure to check her reflection, brushing her bangs back so they framed her face exactly to pinpoint her features, and walk in with a heart doing frantic somersaults in her chest.

Jeon Jung-Kook smiled at the tiny girl welcomingly as she passed him a copy of the newspaper with trembling hands. "Ye-Rimmie, back again?" He teased, scanning the item's barcode before bagging it for her. "You must either really like it here to come fifty times in a week." He then raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk growing on his lips. "Or, is it maybe someone that you want to see often?" At that, she choked on her own spit and after coughing and spluttering for a good two minutes, she mumbled with an evident blush, "None of your beeswax." 

He let out a loud, ringing guffaw that echoed in her ears. "I'm just joking. Here." And she ran out embarrassingly to the safety of her own home, only to find that in the bag, there was an extra chocolate bar in her favourite flavour also there. 

Her brother wanted to hang out with Jung-Kook? Much to his annoyance - but Jung-Kook's excitement - she’d tag along as well, following the pair closely behind as they wandered off into the nearby stream to catch frogs.

The river was tranquil and peaceful, with a stillness that could've been easily disrupted with a knife. Ye-Rim didn't want to get her pants wet, so she just sat along the riverbed when Jung-Kook and her brother played in the water, splashing everywhere. There was a certain boyish charm that twinkled in Jung-Kook's eyes whenever he was close to nature. His mud-splattered hands cupped the amphibian gently, and he showed it proudly to her, saying, "I'm going to name this one after you, because it's cute." Ye-Rim wondered if he wanted to be a veterinarian one day, or perhaps someone whom wanted to save the remaining endangered animals. Either way, she thought it suited his caring nature very well.

And if Jung-Kooks’ parents wanted to invite her over to play video games and have dinner, of _course_ she would go.

"I don't like Super Smash Brothers," Ye-Rim fumed after she tossed the controller away from her lap. Jung-Kook, exchanging the Nintendo 64 cartridge for something different, only looked at her curiously. "I thought you liked playing as Link." 

"I do! But the thing is, why don't video games have more girl characters?  Where are the strong, powerful girls? Girls are just as cool as boys!"

The next time she went over, which was about a week later, Jung-Kook presented Ye-Rim with a PC game. "Tomb Raider?" She questioned. 

"Lara Croft is a spy. She knows how to use guns and bombs. And in this game, this game, THIS game - " He slapped the box enthusiastically, preparing to pop the CD into the computer disk reader. "She even shoots dinosaurs! Let's play!"

Needless to say, their seemingly perfect friendship was something that seemed so surreal, that it could only be read off the pages of a Nicholas Sparks novel. They were like puzzle pieces whom, by chance, fortune and pure luck, found each other on the first try. They clicked. And to her, that was what mattered the most. 

* * *

 

It happened one night, she being twelve and him fifteen. She collapsed while standing at the top of the staircase, rolling downwards until she hit the wooden railing, back first. Through the hazy darkness that kept drifting in and out, she knew that several people - her brother, and even Jung-Kook speaking in a hushed, panicking tone amongst her - had found her, screaming at her to fight as tenaciously as she could while she was heaved onto someone's backside and onto the streets for medical help. 

For the next several days, Ye-Rim didn't know what _exactly_ had happened. She awoke with her arms and legs hooked up to various machines, beeping throughout the nights that she was admitted. In and out, people came and went - sometimes for several hours, often only for a few minutes. Jung-Kook comprised the former, whom often sat beside her, told her mundane stories of this and that to keep her occupied. She appreciated him very much, but even she knew subconsciously, time was dwindling for the both of them. She could see it in her parents' eyes, whom only reassured her with a false sense of security that, "You're going to make it, honey." 

No, she wasn't.

He was sitting beside her silently during her seventh night, putting the finishing touches on an intricate scarf with experienced fingers and a ball of sky-blue yarn when she asked, completely out of the blue, "Jung-Kook-ah, will you continue to remember me, for as long as you keep on living?"

And Jeon Jung-Kook wordlessly wrapped the muffler around her, replied kindly, like he always did, and somewhat sadly with tearful eyes that he couldn't hide, “Of course I will.” Looking up at her tiredly, he, too, asked, “Will you?”

* * *

 

Eventually, she made a full physical recovery. No scarf was found among her personal belongings when she packed them up.

When she entered her house, inhaling the familiar scent of sanitizer, cleaning products and kimchi, she noticed that the house beside them was vacant and empty. Her elementary school graduation photos only showed her family and herself smiling back at her whenever she glazed her eyes over them - no more, no less.

When she took regular walks down the neighbourhood, she had to walk an extra two blocks to buy milk at the local grocery store. The cashier - a tall, brooding fellow whom clearly looked like he belonged elsewhere chewed gum loudly, and thrust her receipt at her rather rudely. And strangely, she expected her bag to be spilled with sugary treats. None were to be found. 

She only heard of IU after she hit it big with 'Good Day', and also rather strangely, she became unexplainably jealous over how she was doted upon for her attractiveness, and her talent.  

When her older brother got married, she met his groomsmen at the wedding ceremony. He tells her that they were all lifelong friends that were made in high school and university.  

And now, some ten years later at the age of twenty-two, she often heads back to the quaint little town that she grew up in to visit her aging parents. Her vehicle passes by a run-down building, overgrown with vines and moss.  

She didn’t even bother to give it a second glance. 


	2. i.

Warmth. An undeniable warm glow is the first thing he feels after slumbering for what feels like an eternity, enveloping him in comfort and peace.

_CRACK._

Until now.

“Shit. Now, you’ve done it, Nam-Joon- _ah_. He was perfectly asleep, and look at him now! He’s going to be bombarding us with questions, I can already just feel it from this kid.” _Kid? I ain’t no kid!_ Jung-Kook hears an amused snort shortly after. “Age don’t mean a thing here, my man.”

Jung-Kook shifts uncomfortably. _He can hear my thoughts?_

“Yes.”

 _Fuck me._ Another low chuckle escapes the mysterious man’s throat.

“Joon, why can’t you do one thing without fucking up?” The same person, now sounding somewhat annoyed and irritated, sighs. Jung-Kook could literally _hear_ the eye roll happening.  

“B-but, it’s not my fault, Yoongi.” Another male voice, somewhat high-pitched and shaky with fear, replied in response. “It just broke. In my hands. How does a piece of glass just break like that? It’s fucking bullshit!”

“Cause you clumsy, you fool.”

Finally having enough, Jung-Kook’s eyes flutter open slowly. The first thing he notices is a bloodied blue muffler lying beside him, sending a sudden chill up his spine. Whether the blood staining the fabric was his or someone else’s, Jung-Kook certainly didn’t want to know. Aside from his futon-style bed, the bamboo mats and a warm, glowing lamp that occupied the tiny space before them, there were also two men standing over him; one, a shorter, smug-looking young adult with light blonde hair and a pasty complexion, eyeing him lazily. If Jung-Kook had to guess, he would estimate that this person was in his late teens. Despite his somewhat casual and laidback appearance, Jung-Kook already knew from first impressions that this was not a person to be trifled with, or anger under any circumstance. He was going to have to watch his step around this guy.

The second was a study in comparison to his companion; a tall, brooding man with tanned skin, and incredibly feathery, colourful hair whom was clutching a broken cup in his hand. This must’ve been the Nam-Joon that the other person was reprimanding before. But unlike the other man, Nam-Joon seems a tad bit more welcoming, sending Jung-Kook a warm, dimpled smile and a comforting nod.

Averting his gaze upwards, and then towards the sides, he soon realizes in sheer panic that he was in solitary confinement: There didn’t seem to be any windows, entrances or exits; nothing that signified the presence of an outside world. The terror quickly overtakes his entire being, and within seconds, he’s at his feet, gasping. “W-where am I?”

The pale man rolls his eyes; Nam-Joon doesn’t move an inch, but at the exact moment that he locks eyes with Jung-Kook, he could feel the anxiety evaporating from his body as quickly as it had come, calming him into peaceful tranquility.

“Thank-you…?” He’s not sure whom, or what exactly, he should be addressing, but Nam-Joon only nods once again in acknowledgement. “So, uh,” Scratching his head, Jung-Kook tilts his head to the side in confusion. “Can the two of you enlighten me as to where I am, or how I got here? And perhaps -” He dares to question apprehensively. “Introduce yourselves?”

“The kid’s got guts. I’ll admire that. Alright, I’m Yoongi,” The pale man says, extending an arm out. Jung-Kook barely got a grasp of his hand before he quickly whips it back. To Jung-Kook’s disbelief, he then proceeds to withdraw a lacy white handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his hand. “And as you probably figured out, I can harness the ability of telepathy. So,” He points a finger at Jung-Kook warningly. “You best not be thinking up shit about me, because I will find out and I will hunt you down.”

“He’s also a germaphobe, so don’t take his need for sanitation too seriously. He does this with everyone.” Nam-Joon chimes in. “Also, hi,” He waves with a friendly demeanour. “I’m Nam-Joon. I can manipulate the power of emotions, which probably would’ve come in handy if I were to run for president in my next life.” Pausing, he adds, “I’d like for you to introduce yourself as well.”

“Jung-Kook.” The pair look at him expectantly, as if he were to describe more of his attributes. “Uh, I don’t know what I can do?”  

Yoongi chuckles amusedly. “This new kid is funny as hell. No wonder they asked us to fetch him.”

“Speaking of which,” Jung-Kook cuts in sharply. “What is this place?”

“The 13th Station,” Nam-Joon replies airily. “But, I suggest that you sit down, kid. It’s going to be a rather long story to tell.”

“That’s a _brilliant_ suggestion,” Jung-Kook replies, tone coated with sarcasm. “There’s only one problem. We don’t really have a lot of space in this place to sit.”

“Easily fixed. C’mon, you can also introduce yourself to the rest of the guys.” Nam-Joon beckons for him to follow, and Jung-Kook does, only to find himself in bright sunlight, the cold, brisk air whipping his face. Standing outside on a sturdy wooden balcony, he inhales deeply, taking in the scent of fresh ocean water. The glare invading his eyes eventually fades, and he’s awestruck at the scenery before him.

The vast, wide ocean – crystal clear and blue. “It’s huge,” He whispers to himself, feeling slightly intimidated. Beyond the distance, his eyes were able to make out slight hints of a minuscule cityscape. He takes the time to marvel at the sight, and then turns his gaze to the sloping roofs, traditional-style wooden buildings cluttering around a single, hilly cobblestone pathway. “Don’t think of heading upwards,” Yoongi warns, nodding his head at the road that ascended upwards in a dangerous, yet curious-looking spiral that seemed to end at a crevice at the top of the mountain. “It’s off limits.”

Jung-Kook tears his eyes away, and continues to examine the area. Red paper lanterns decorates the sidewalks, hanging precariously as they drift with the occasional blasts of wind – Jung-Kook thinks it might be a tad bit too early for them to be lit. It fazes him that aside from him and the two older men, the city seems dead silent.  

The only one road descends down to a small platform fit for no more than a few individuals to stand. Underneath the water, Jung-Kook was able to make out a faint train track. The single sign confirms his suspicions; where he was now, was also a railway station.

Jung-Kook’s breath suddenly hitches, and Nam-Joon's voice echoes in the back of his mind once more.  

“This is _the_ 13 th Station? The halfway mark between the human realm, and the spirit realm?”

Yoongi nods. “You’re correct.”

_Why am I here?_

And if Jung-Kook’s eyes weren’t mistaking him, Yoongi glances at him, almost in remorse. Nam-Joon nearly wants to stop the other man from saying it, but regardless, Jung-Kook would’ve found out eventually. Better sooner than later, he supposes. So, he keeps his mouth shut, hoping that the younger man would take the news alright.

“Because you’re dead.”

* * *

 

Well, not _exactly_ dead, Nam-Joon points out in hopes of soothing the younger man. “At the very least, you can still interact with inanimate objects. Although, normal people generally shouldn’t be able to see you.”

Even so, it takes a while for the shock to wear off; Nam-Joon was capable of calming him down once again with his powers, but Jung-Kook presumes that the effect wasn’t as strong as he would’ve hoped.

The exact reason as to how it happened – how he got _here_ – when it happened, no one knows. And deep in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of dread lingers, signifying that maybe it was a sign for him to not know the exact details of _why_ he decided to lose his mortality for a life like this. Like a chalkboard, his past was wiped down, clean, leaving no traces of his past life whatsoever.

The way Nam-Joon had explained it as simply as he could, something strange made the heavens didn’t want to take his soul. Or perhaps more specifically, certain parts of it was taken, while the rest stubbornly wanted to retain its remaining humanity. Nam-Joon continues to clarify the situation; there weren’t many of them that resided in the 13th Station, only 6 other young men, 7 including himself.

“And as you already are aware, the 13th Station is the divide that separates humans from spirits. So, take it as you will.”

So, according to that logic, Jung-Kook wasn’t exactly a human, not necessarily a vengeful spirit, and he presumes that he wasn’t a God. 

Still, Jung-Kook didn’t even have a single clue as to _what_ he would be classified as. So, he still had to ask.

“Am I a God?”

Yoongi snorts. “I’m really starting to like this kid.”

“You’re just like us,” Nam-Joon explains matter-of-factly, as if it this were something that happened on a regular basis. “We, too, gave up our souls for something much greater in our past lives. But,” He shrugs. “They didn’t want the full package.”

“Any ideas as to why?”

“Why do you keep asking so many questions?” Yoongi’s voice is muffled behind his hand.

“Probably because we have unfulfilled wishes that we still need to complete. Once they’re done, I’m quite certain that we’ll be moving on to the afterlife soon enough. Yet,” Nam-Joon glances over at Yoongi. “Over time, some of us don’t really give a shit about them anymore, and we stay here because life is so simple.”

“You said that there’s 6 of you in total, right?” Jung-Kook asks earnestly. “Can I meet them?”

* * *

 

Within several minutes, Nam-Joon was able to summon the remaining 4 boys to join them. One by one, they introduced themselves. Seokjin, the eldest and presumably, the one whom has been in the 13th Station for the longest, seems kind-hearted enough, but rather mellow and level-headed; someone whom Jung-Kook thought would be an ideal older brother figure. He wasn’t much of a fighter or an attacker, but he was able to conjure up flames and water with a quick wave of his hand – much to Jung-Kook’s amusement – preferring to use his skills in the kitchen. “Were you a chef?” He asks bluntly. Seokjin only laughs in response. “I wish.”

Then came Hoseok, whom arrived at the 13th Station shortly after Nam-Joon and Yoongi. He carries a rather cheerful, albeit somewhat eccentric, disposition, shouting gleefully at the new addition. But if Jung-Kook’s eyes weren’t deceiving him, the flicker of pain within his eyes was undeniably real. Not wanting to ask any personal questions in regards to him, Jung-Kook only greets him with a bow. Hoseok wields the ability of teleportation. “But don’t think of asking me to get you to the human world without any help from the train,” He says playfully with a wink. “I can’t do that yet.”  

Tae-Hyung and Jimin were the next ones, and right away, Jung-Kook had a feeling that he would get along with them the best out of the lot. Tae-Hyung, like Hoseok, seems like a happy fellow. Albeit the fact that his deep, penetrating blue eyes seems to belie his approachability, he extends his hand out to Jung-Kook first. “Don’t make him mad,” Jimin whispers in Jung-Kook’s ear. “Or, he’ll be brewing up a storm.” The pun, as Jung-Kook would learn later, was _not_ intentional. Rather, it was very much real.

Baby-faced Jimin wastes no time in wrapping Jung-Kook in a chokehold. Perhaps a teensy bit _too_ friendly, if that were even possible. “Finally! I was getting _so sick_ of being teased, since I was the youngest one and all. But, good to have you on board, Jung-Kookie!” A newcomer, it wasn’t long since Jimin learnt that he wielded the ability of speed. So, it wasn’t surprising to find him easily fatigued or passed out regularly. Still, Jung-Kook couldn’t help but find him highly impressive.

“Alright, alright, Jimin- _ah_ , let him go.” Yoongi orders, waving him away.            

For the meantime, however, Jung-Kook felt out of place. He didn’t seem to wield any Herculean strength, and nor did he possess any sort of mental capability like the others. And he certainly didn’t know what he would be doing now, especially with his newfound immortality.

 “What do you do under these circumstances?”

“I do a lot of reconnaissance work in the human realm. So, obviously, I’ve learnt to play practical jokes on humans, especially those whom irk me if I see them doing something dumb and completely lacking common sense.” Yoongi then withdraws a sharp piercing blade from his belt loop. “And sometimes,” He adds, eyes hardening. “I kill them.” Jung-Kook feels his blood running ice cold, but only until Seokjin sniggers and waves Yoongi’s rather casual threat away.

“He’s just kidding. He doesn’t. That knife doesn't hurt humans, anyway.” 

“Depending on how quickly you develop your skills, you'll often be asked to perform certain tasks in the human world," Hoseok begins with his arms crossed. “They’re relatively easy, not too difficult. But obviously, the assholes up there are too self-centered and dignified and wouldn’t want to dirty their hands for – “

“ _Yah_!” Nam-Joon slaps Hoseok’s arm. “Do you want to die?”

Yoongi turns to look at him lifelessly. “He’s already half-dead, anyway. Let him.” He deadpans.

Jung-Kook sighs in defeat; how perplexing this must be.

“But, I mean, it’s not _so_ bad.” Nam-Joon continues with an encouraging pat. “We all co-exist harmoniously together at the 13th Station, and it’s wonderful to have a new person join us every now and then. Even though you’re the youngest out of all of us, I’m sure you’ll catch up quickly.”

“So, I can still have _jjajangmyeon,_ right?”

Seokjin nods approvingly. “This kid asks all the right questions.”

“Wait, but what about your powers, though?”

“Nevermind; forget what I said.”

“I guess you could say they’re linked with what you did best in your life before you sold your soul to the gods.” But from what Jung-Kook could see, even Nam-Joon didn’t really have much of an idea as to how it worked. “Maybe I _was_ a politician in my past life. Or a psychologist or psychiatrist. Something that looked deeply into the understanding of the human mind.”

“Oh, please,” Yoongi grunts. “You couldn’t pay me to promote your presumed campaign if you were ever going to run for president.”

“They _do_ take some time to develop and train, though. As you can see, I still can’t masterfully influence anyone if their emotions are too out of control. However,” Nam-Joon gives a shit-eating, pompous grin. “I will say that this is probably one of the best parts of living this sort of life. You’ll figure out your skills, eventually.”

All of this new information made Jung-Kook relatively uneasy. And by nightfall, with the moon beaming down at the still waters and its reflection gleaming back upwards at him, they all left him to rest in his room. Jung-Kook couldn’t lie to himself, he still wasn’t sure if he would adapt to this kind of life well. Stepping out onto the veranda once more to think in peace, he looks ahead at the now illuminated cityscape. The bright lights all blur together, and he tilts his head to the side in wonderment.

That side, Nam-Joon told him earlier that day, was the human realm. Jung-Kook’s hand unconsciously reaches upward, grasping at nothing but the air in front of him. Gritting his teeth, he turns away, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall. Why was it so close, yet so far? Every single time he saw those lights blinking away against the night sky, in a way, it felt like mockery; a painful reminder that at the end of the day, he wasn’t fully human, after all.  

He sinks his head back into his pillow, sighing for the umpteenth time that day. But maybe, eventually, he’ll figure it out. He turns onto his side, finding the scarf within his periphery. Running his hands through the fabric, he thinks that maybe his ridiculous decision back then was linked with this. Perhaps something had happened. At the very least, he thinks with a considerably lightened heart, a crucial clue from the human world was in his possession.

He has an eternity to unravel the truth. It just wasn’t now.

And that, for the time being, anyway, was partially okay.

 


End file.
